The Life of a Southern Girl

I heard something very funny (disturbing) on the radio yesterday. I don't remember it verbatim; but the gist was this:

"Is Eddie going out with us tonight?".

"No. He can't. He has to stay home with the kid."

"The kid doesn't even look like him! He's a smart guy. When is he going to get a clue?"

The advertisement goes on to tell you how you can order a "discreet" DNA test to determine if your child is really yours.

Am I the only one that finds this a little bizarre? The approach; I mean. It was like a reverse Trojan commercial.

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Don't mind me. I haven't had sex in 3 months. I really like the Toyota commercial. The one where they're crashing the cars. The kid says, "Do the gold one!". Reseach-Man says, "That's Desert Sand Mica". Kid says, "Whatever. Just crash it!". Whatever, indeed.

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I'm house-sitting again for the same people from last month. All was going well until yesterday evening when one of the dogs turned up limping. I've determined that nothing is broken. She won't let me press her nails; so I'm thinking she caught one of her nails on something & it's going to be sore for a few days. I'm hoping that's all it is & not some dreaded spider bite on the pad of her second toe that will spread venom to all of her vital organs & she will just drop dead in the middle of the night. Trust me. When you are house-sitting; that's the kind of senario that comes to mind when something other than perfect happens.

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So...your mission is: Figure out what your most ultimate vacation would be & then buy me a ticket to that place. I really need a vacation.

peace